


Strange Magic

by ChickenandBrocolli



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Force-Sensitive Reader, Made-up planets, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Smut, That's Not How The Force Works (Star Wars), Witchcraft, no y/n, spells, witch reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:48:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChickenandBrocolli/pseuds/ChickenandBrocolli
Summary: You live on a forest planet as the village witch. Your thoughts and dreams are constantly plagued by a faceless armored man in distress and in need of your help. For over a month, you've been trying to figure out who he is and where he is from or if he is even real.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	1. Making Waves Across My Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All representations of witchcraft in this story are based off of my personal craft. Herbs and stones are going to have some alternate names though. This takes place post-season 1. This chapter is mainly focused on the reader.

The shiny armored man stumbles towards your tiny cabin tucked neatly away in the woods outside your home village. He tries his best to hold himself up as he makes those final steps to your door. Octavia yells your name from outside and you rush down to- 

You wake up drenched in sweat, another hyper-realistic dream about the armored figure haunting your mind. The sun peeks through the wooden shades just as it starts to rise above the horizon. 

Journal in hand, you quickly write down what you remember from the dream. The previous page says the exact same things. An armored man with a floating pram comes into your village in desperate need of a healer. He is badly injured and stumbles his way to your door. 

Shifting through the last few weeks of journaling, every page tells the same tale. But the story never continues past your doorstep. The thoughts in your head race as you try to remember each detail carefully, but nothing has changed since the first time you dreamt of this, over a month ago.

Why is it always the same? The shouts from your friend yelling for you to open your doors. His strong silent demeanor even though he is clearly hurt. The mysterious pram floating behind him. The details never change or become clearer even though this image is ingrained in your head

You have visions of the near future regularly, but you haven’t had any predictions in your sleep since you were a small child. It wasn’t a problem at first but now you worry about him and his condition. Anxiety fills you as you think about what little thing is in the floating pram as well. How could this being care for another if he is injured in the way you saw him in your dream? How much longer will it take for your vision to come to fruition? 

You ease out of your bed and dress for the day, pulling on your plum cloak last. The inventory of your herbs was low after your last client of the previous day required a spell to bring back her lost love. You descend the ladder from your chambers into your shop. Counting and weighing the herbs and spices should be easy enough, but you can’t shake this dream out of your head. After losing count for what may be the eighth time, you decide it's better off to just go forage and hope for the best. 

The crisp forest air tickles your skin as you lock up your shop. The woods are coming to life in the early morning, with all types of creatures bustling in the canopy of leaves above you. The sun is just reaching the tops of the trees by the time you get to the small stream by your home.

The stream is warmer than the air around you as you dip your bare toes into it, shoes tossed carelessly on the bank of the water. It has become a ritual for you to cleanse and prepare yourself for the day in the bubbling waters. It has been thought in your traditions that running water rids you of any negative energy. Reflecting on the worry and heartache your visions have caused you, you remove your robes to begin your cleansing and your morning meditation. 

A rumbling in the distance breaks your trance as a ship flies directly over you. There aren’t many visitors on your small planet, so this occurrence is rare but not completely abnormal. You try to center your mind again, focusing on the sounds of the birds and the babbling brook. The clear state of mind is completely lost as all your focus moves to the ship groaning off in the distance. You give up on your meditative state and adorn your robes, continuing on your search to refill the inventory.

This task has become second nature after all the years spent in the woodlands. Your knapsack becomes heavy and it's time to return to the shop. The herbs will hang around the rafters to dry out for use and eventually be ground into powders or used as an incense. Light fills the room after the heavy curtains are drawn back. The dust on the floor is swept up and the jars rearranged from where they were left haphazardly from the previous client. The sun is almost in the middle of the sky when the shop is finally open for the day. 

There’s a knock on your door and before you can open it, Octavia, one of your usual customers and mentor enters.  
“Auntie!” you greet as she breaches the doorway. Her long hair is drawn up on the back of her head, covered by a black lace veil. 

“My darling how have you been? I’m in need of some shrushwart and was hoping you would have some.” 

“Of course, Auntie. The forest is full of it.” You lead her over to the side of your shop that contains a multitude of shelves filled with all types of dried plants. 

“Such a young thing to have her craft so well perfected.” Octavia says as she peruses the shop. “You’ve always had such a natural gift.”

“What do you need shrushwart for anyway, Auntie?” Your lip quirks as you remind yourself of the herb’s lustful properties. You grab an empty jar and begin carefully filling it for her. 

“You mind your business with what I do. I’ve taught you way too much clearly.” She chides. She grabs some stones and candles off of your shelves and places them on the front counter. 

“How have those dreams been hon?” She looks you dead in the eye and you know she already feels the distress that you have been feeling from your visions. 

“The same as every other night.” You mumble out a reply. Admitting your dreams have been reoccurring is easier than admitting how much they’ve overwhelmed you. 

“Have you tried asking the cards or the other side what they think?” She asks. “You need to use your resources before you let this get the better of you. Besides we all heard that ship fly over early this morning, maybe it’s the man of mystery coming to live out your prophecies.” She bumps her hip into yours trying to lighten your mood.

Grounding yourself for a moment you try to feel for any energy shifts in this realm or the next, but everything feels the same. 

“I doubt it. The message might not even be for me. I was trying to help one of the local women contact her lover that went missing so maybe it was for her.” You didn’t want to think of the dream any longer. 

“I heard in the village that someone said it was a Mandalorian who landed near the largest town. I’ve never seen one myself, but we’ve all heard the tales.” Auntie continues. Her fingers dance across your labeled jars. 

“What would a warrior be doing here? We barely had any issues when the war was going on let alone in a time of peace.” You pull your lip between your teeth. You’ve never seen a Mandalorian before and didn’t think you could recognize one, but you have heard they were great warriors. The planet has never suffered as much hardships as others. The closest you’ve gotten to the war was some refugee families who took safe haven on your home. 

Auntie laughs and says, “You’re too in your own head my girl! Maybe you need some of that shrushwart to get someone to relieve all the tension of yours.” 

“Auntie!” You exclaim, chuckling along with her. The laughter dies out and you prepare her purchases at the counter. 

“I have this to exchange for my goods.” Credits didn’t mean much to you with all your resources in the forest, so trades were more regular at your shop. She reaches into her breast to present an opalescent stone in front of you. “You must keep it from the eyes of others. It has a very powerful energy.”

The energy of it buzzes up your arms as she places it in your palm. The stone is gorgeous almost a perfect circle that fits soundly in your hand. 

“Auntie, I can’t accept this just for some herbs and candles.” You can’t stop looking at the stone. Its liveliness spreading throughout your body. 

“You can and you will. That stone has been among our women for generations and it chose you to go to next.” She places a kiss on your check and collects her belongings as you stand frozen with the gift in your open hand.

“I’ll see you soon my darling.” She waves and the bell dings above her as she exits the shop. 

You place the stone on the counter and focus your mind on it. Slowly raising it from its place. Your gifts as a witch were not just limited to your visions and your telekinetic abilities were something that you practiced often. Your mind quickly turns from a blank space and reverts back to your dream, replaying it on a sped-up loop. The stone clatters on the counter as it is dropped out of the air. The bell of the shop rings, so you rush to grab it and slip it into your robe. 

“How can I help you?” You cheerfully greet a new customer. 

“I’m in need of some guidance.” The young man says as he cautiously enters. “A woman in the market said you can help.”

“Of course! Come inside. We can ask the cards for what you need.” You usher the man through the shop to a room in the back. Holding back the tapestry that serves as a door, he enters behind you. The candles around are the only light, all at different phases of burning. He sits in the chair across from you and nervously twiddles his thumbs on the table. 

“What do you seek to understand my love?” You question as you shuffle the cards through, placing three piles in front of him. 

“I want to have a lover. Someone to be with me. but no one seems to take any interest.” He hangs his head in defeat after admitting this to you. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of. We can learn from the cards what we need to do in order to find you love.” You grab his hands in yours, focusing the energy in your body you bring your mind to the table under you. It begins to slowly shake; the man snaps his eyes open at the magic in front of him. The table lowers itself back to the ground when you break your trance from it. Parlor tricks weren’t necessary to your craft, but you found jazzing up your readings got customers to return more often, and to confess you were quite lonely in your little cabin. 

“Now focus your energy and pick a pile that speaks to you.” You instruct. The man points to the pile in front of him and you pick that one up before gathering the rest of your cards. 

The five of wands is drawn first, then the wheel of fortune, and finally the ace of cups. Studying the cards, you gain access to the message they are sending. 

“You need to release your own insecurities in order to love someone else. There is already someone in your life who loves you dearly, but you are too caught up in your self-doubt to realize this. A new relationship will come your way, but you need to love yourself first.” You explain to him. He sits quietly for a moment mulling over the information he received.

Removing yourself from the table you grab an unburned orange candle. 

“Burn this in four days when the moon is full to restore the confidence in yourself. Do not blow it out, let it burn down completely. Then bring me the wax that is left over so I can examine it for you.” The man takes the candle from your hands and pulls a jar of dried lunar flower from his pocket.

“Will this be enough in exchange?” He asks, eyes widened in shock from his reading. 

“Of course, whatever you have to offer.” You smile. “Don’t forget to come back to me with the wax.”

He thanks you profusely before heading out on his way. 

The rest of the day goes by slowly and you spend most of the time reorganizing the shop to the order that you like it. Some of the people who work in the market square have droids for these purposes, but you prefer to do the work yourself instead of relying on potentially faulty programing. 

Just before closing time You pulled out the ladder to clean some of the embarrassingly dusty top shelves. Your mind drifts back to the earlier reading from today. Loneliness has been creeping up on you lately. The shop is everything you could’ve dreamed of but living on the outskirts of your village is isolating. Thinking back on your years of training under Octavia, you long for the family you once had with the others, learning to perfect your craft. Did the cards have a message for you as well?

The relationships you’ve had in the past were often short lived. Either because your standards were too high, or someone was trying to use you for your abilities. Maybe you needed to release your own ego in order to love and be loved. Could the cards have meant a relationship was coming to you? Even a companion would be fine for now. Anything to ease the ache in your heart that comes in the depths of the night would be sufficient.

The bell dings above the door pulling you from your thoughts. Out of the corner of your eye you see a tall figure duck in. You climb down the later to greet your customer. Once turned around you find yourself facing the man from your visons. Struggling to stand you fall back into your ladder knocking a jar from its place on the top shelf. With swift reflexes, you quickly reach out and catch it before it drops on the floor. Your stuck in your place as the man makes his way into your shop. The pram follows him in, and he closes the door. 

“I’m looking for some information. I was told you could help.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next chapter will include a lot of mando! I hope to post it by the end of this week.  
> Please let me know what you think feedback is so important to me!  
> Message me on tumblr as well dxddydelrey.


	2. Hello, It's Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mandalorian asks the reader if she knows anything of the Jedi. Leading to nostalgic talks with Octavia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3.4k words  
> I borrowed some dialogue from the show. As a reminder this takes place before season two begins!
> 
> Check out my playlists!  
> [Strange Magic Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5iOl8L9hT0dAVTAFcRnnDE?si=lsM81FC_RNO_X6ie-FuTIQ) with all my inspo songs 
> 
> [Din Djarin Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6fe29HzNKHGg8VsD3vpeZF?si=OaleSP1cTC-VS-z8yTNMHA) This is just my inspo songs for Din's Character in this story as well as the show!  
> I update them both pretty regularly!!

“I’m looking for some information. I was told you could help.” You’re stuck in your place. He isn’t injured or broken and he’s asking for your assistance. 

“You’re in great danger.” You blurt out without thinking. He reaches for the blaster on his hip, fingers hovering dangerously over it. Your warning hangs as a threat in the air. 

“Please let me explain.” Your voice trembles as you try to break the tension between you. His hand doesn’t move from his holster. 

“I mean you no harm. I swear.” You plead with him, fearing for your life. He finally relaxes his hands on his side. He nods in direction of your table. You pull yourself from where you’ve been frozen in place and allow the man to follow behind you. 

Tucking yourself on your side of the table, the man sits across from you. His large body looks cramped at your small reading table. The candles in the room reflect across the plains of his armor, casting a warm glow around him. 

Once he is settled you slowly begin. “I have visions of the future and you were the most recent one.” You choose your words carefully as if you were approaching an injured animal. Knowing that many outsiders are often scared off by your gifts, you wait for his initial reaction. 

“Continue.” He simply states, his large form unmoving. 

“I’ve had a vision that you were injured and in need of help. You drag your body to my shop every night in my dreams and then I wake up before I can help you.” Your eyes drop to the table. You’ve never felt nervous sharing your visions before, but this man’s stoic nature makes you unsure of how he is receiving this news. Silence fills the space between you, and you are urged to break it.

“Are you not surprised by this?” He remains too composed after you just told him something that would send most running for the hills. 

“I’ve heard stranger these last few months.” His modulated voice rumbles from beneath his helmet, a light chuckle dusting his tone.

Your eyes dart up to meet his visor. He just gives a curt nod before hitting a button on his wrist to draw the pram closer to you both. The pram opens up and he reaches inside to pull whatever is inside out. This now seemingly foreign pram had always been in your dream, but you never saw the contents. You’re at the edge of your seat when he pulls a small green child out to rest in his lap. 

“Do you know anything about his kind? I’ve been quested to bring him back to his people, the Jedi.” The man asks you. He bounces the child on his knee. The instant your eyes connect with the child you are overwhelmed with a sea of emotions. You clutch your chest hoping these will subside. Flashes of bright colors pass behind your closed eyelids and you feel as though you’ve just experienced the worst migraine of your life.

“Are you alright?” The man asks, raising from his seat to assist you.

“I’m fine.” you assure him, “Your boy just has a very powerful energy.” The wave of emotions completely diminished and the bright colors fade to black. Your clenched eyes finally open and your shoulders drop relieving the tension from that intense moment. You were able to reach his eyes with yours once again. Reaching out, you place both your hands with your palms facing up on the table. The child struggles out of his father’s hold to climb across the table to you. He sits in between your open hands and rests a small, three-fingered hand on your cheek. You can’t help but smile at the adorable creature.

Before you can give his cute looks a second thought, feelings are flooding through you, as the child shares his life with you. Your hand covers his small one on your cheek. 

“It’s nice to meet you Grogu.” You smile softly at him and run your other hand over his fuzzy ear. He nuzzles into your palm and shares the memories of his newfound father. 

“Grogu?” The armored man questions. Grogu turns to his father and hums. 

“His name is Grogu. You didn’t know?” Your brow furors. This creature clearly has so much love for his father that didn’t even know his name. “What have you been calling him?”

“Kid, mostly. We have limited means of communication” He mumbles, clearly embarrassed. 

“What do I call you?” You question while nuzzling with the sweet child who has placed himself in your lap.

“Mando works. That’s how most refer to me.” He tenses at the sight of his child in your arms, still unsure of your connection to him. You give him your name as well in hopes of gaining a small amount of trust from him. 

“So, you’re the Mandalorian they spoke of in the village? I’ve never met one before.” 

“There aren’t many of us left.” He states. The child scrambles out of your arms. The feeling of loss fills you. It is very clear how these two connected over that shared bond.

“How do you understand him? Are you reading his mind?” He questions. The child pulls the Mandalorian’s orange tipped finger into his mouth to chew on.

“I can feel his emotions from his past and the present. It is something I’ve always been able to do, especially with others like me.” He tilts his head inquisitively.

“Are you a Jedi like him?” The man relaxes in his seat a little more, recognizing that you and the child are very similar. 

“I am not a Jedi, I come from a line of sorcerers. Many on our planet refer to us as witches.” Your finger aimlessly draws shapes on the wooden table. One of the candles to your right sizzles out at the end of its life. 

“I’ve heard that the Jedi are also a type of sorcerer. Do you know of any others?” He inquires. The child has dozed off still sucking on the Mandalorian’s gloved finger. 

“The only sorcerers I know, are those who have raised me. We can ask my Auntie in the morning if she knows of others like us.” You lick the tips of your fingers and extinguish another candle in the room. You continue to put the rest of them out. The Mandalorian hardly makes a sound as he exists the small reading space with his sleeping child, just the thump of boots on the aged wooden floors. You rejoin them in the space of your shop only two dull lamps and the glow of moonlight creeping through the window fill it. 

“Could you direct me to some lodging in your village? My ship is about a day’s walk.” He begins walking to your door to exit for the night, but something tells you not to let him leave. A strange feeling that unknowing to you will be with you every time he exits your life. 

“You could stay here if you like. The village is about an hour walk and your little one seems too tuckered out to travel.” Your hands wring nervously behind your back. The flame of the lamp dancing in golden beams across the man’s armor. 

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble to you. An inn will be just fine.”

“You wouldn’t be any trouble at all. I insist.” 

“Thank you,” he walks towards you and you finally realize how large the man truly is, armor and all. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pouch of credits. “For your troubles.” He states holding it out to you in an open hand.

“I have no use for credits, but I appreciate the gesture.” You close his hand back around the pouch and allow yourself to keep it there a little longer than necessary. He nods and reluctantly deposits the credits back into his pocket. 

“Follow me.” Leading Mando and his son upstairs of the shop, you enter your small living space. You ignite a few of the lanterns and the space comes to life. Your small kitchen area is stuffed full of your forest finds. The sitting area’s mismatched furniture gleam under the lanterns. The light tickling the corners of magenta and emerald velvet chairs. Jeweled curtains hang to separate your bedroom from the main space. All of the objects are collections of gifts from your clients, who’ve paid you in off world finds for your magical services. 

“It’s not much but I hope it will suit you both for the time being.” A blush spreads across your cheeks as you wonder what the Mandalorian thinks of your humble living space. 

“Thank you, you have a beautiful home.” He walks into the sitting space and place the sleeping child on the magenta chair. You hand him a plush throw to swaddle his son in. 

“You are very kind.” You hand him another blanket for himself and dismiss yourself to your room, only lingering in the doorway for a moment to watch the armored man rest himself in the adjacent chair.

Sleep comes easy that night, peaceful and uninterrupted by haunting dreams. A soft voice wakes you just before the sun rise. The Mandalorian sits with his son who is now awake. Through the thin wall you can hear the man quietly whisper his son’s name, who responds with babble each time. Mando chuckles to himself in the sitting room and the gentle thuds of baby feet tumble across the room. You lie back down in your bed and softly smile to yourself. A great warrior of a man turned so soft and sweet by a child. Sleep comes to you quickly again and a small smile dances on your lips from the encounter in the other room. 

The sun is peaking through your window when you wake again. Your skin is humid with sleep and your hair a mess on your pillow. When was the last time you were able to sleep like this? You open your dream journal, log the date and time, and just write none on the page. The words juxtapose the previous pages and stare back at you. You place your journal back into your nightstand and prepare yourself for the day. 

Lotus oil anoints your neck as you prepare for the new moon. You gather your canvas sack and exit your bedroom through the beaded curtain. The Mandalorian sits on your living room carpet with his son rolling a ball back and forth to him. 

“I can make some breakfast if you’d like to eat.” Making your way into the kitchen you gather some ingredients for your breakfast. 

“Only for the little one, I’m fine without.” Nodding you begin to prepare the meal, making an extra dish for Mando anyway. He did not remove his helmet upon entry or throughout the night for all you know. Unsure how Mandalorians usually approach mealtime, you plan to leave him alone with his meal. 

“I made you a plate anyway. If you’d like I can take Grogu downstairs and feed him.” The man’s trust in you was questionable but he felt so familiar to you through from the dreams that this request didn’t seem like overstepping. 

“That would be very kind.” You scoop up the child, balancing him on your hip and your plates in your arms. Once you’ve retreated to your shop you place him on the counter and begin spoon feeding his breakfast.

“You sure are a cutie.” You laugh as some of his food dribble down his chin. Quickly, you reach to wipe it with the corner of your cloak. The clink of armor and boots notifies you of the Mandalorian rejoining you in the shop. You finish up feeding the child and scoop him into your arms. Mando reaches out for him and you pass him over. You’re struck still as another vision rushes into your head. The Mandalorian is sitting on the ramp of a large ship while you sit in a nearby stream with the small green child. The little one splashes you with water and laughs as you splash him back. The sweet smell of flowers and the cool water fills your nose and you can almost feel the way your damp dress clings to you in the stream. Snapping back to reality, you glance up at the Mandalorian in front of you, eyes as wide as saucers. You rush to step away from him, trying to brush the moment off completely. 

“We can head into the village now. We’ll meet with Octavia, she taught me everything I know. She will mostly likely know of others like him.” Grabbing your sack off of the counter, you lead Mando out the door. 

It’s about an hour’s walk to the village and the Mandalorian doesn’t speak much. You go to ask him questions a few times but instead stop yourself. If he wanted to speak to you, he would. Instead you speak of Octavia. 

“You know I’m not actually from this planet.” You start, no response from the other party. “My parents brought me to Octavia when she was around my age and then left with no trace. She never told me who they were or what happened to them.” Mando looks over at you in acknowledgement so you continue.

“She raised me as her own and taught me everything that I know now. I wouldn’t be where I am or who I am without her.” Your lost in your own thoughts reflecting on your childhood. Octavia took in others who shared similar powers to you, but most of them left the small forest planet when they became of age to. 

“Found family is just as important as those made through blood.” His words pull you from your daydream just as you arrive to the outskirts of your village. 

The children playing greet you as they make crowns of flowers in the nearby meadow. Every eye turns to look at the Mandalorian walking behind you as you make your way to Octavia’s home. One of the children from before, a young girl named Lily, comes scampering over to you with two flower crowns in her hand.

“Auntie! Auntie! We haven’t seen you in so long, so we made this for you and the baby!” You take the flower crown from her small pudge hands, delicate white petals with their stems weaved together. You place it on top your head. 

Thank you, Lily, you are too kind.” She laughs and skips over to Mando.

“Excuse me, sir. I made this for your baby can they have it.” Her big blue eyes look at him while she put the sweetest grin on her face.

“Uhh sure kid, thank you.” The Mandalorian carefully takes the crown from Lily and hands it to Grogu. He places his child onto the ground and allows him to waddle the rest of the way to Octavia’s home. Grogu had tried to eat the flowers gifted to him but spit a petal out at first taste. 

Finally reaching Octavia’s door, you knock before letting yourself in. 

“Auntie! I have some guests with me.” You announce. 

Octavia turns from her place at her stove and comes over to place a kiss on your cheek.  
“So nice to meet you! What an adorable baby!” She barely gives Mando a once over before she starts to fuss over the little one who has waddled his way over to her.  
“Hello there, sweetheart.” She scoops him up in her arms and Grogu produces a big toothy grin for her. She looks Mando up and down again and you can see the connection happening right before you.

“Darling, is this- “

“Auntie drop it.” You stop her before she could bring up your vision. You’ve been talking about an injured armored man for over a month. Of course, the first man in armor she sees she would assume your prediction had come true. You didn’t want to think about what fate has in mind. You just wanted to help this man connect his adopted son with his kind. 

“I’m hoping you could help, she said you may have more information on Jedis or sorcerers as you may call them.” Mando asks.

“I’ve heard of the Jedi. They are much like us, but they train their natural born powers differently than we do. They believe in light and dark where we walk down the middle. Our power is not good or evil it is a neutral energy we tap into.” She places the child on the ground and continues. “I met one once on a journey I took to Alderaan. But that was many years ago.”

Alderaan wouldn’t answer the Mandalorian’s questions. The Jedi was probably long gone before its destruction. 

“His son holds power like ours.” You explain. “He connected his emotions with me to share his stories.”

“How peculiar.” Octavia states. She observes the child as he scurries around her home, occasionally peeking into places he can reach. 

“Has he ever moved anything with his mind?” She turns to question the Mandalorian.

“A Mudhorn. And his favorite knob off of my ship.” 

“A Mudhorn! What a powerful little boy he is! My dear child just shakes tables for theatrics!” She laughs to herself. Your cheeks turn scarlet at your Auntie’s jokes.

“You can also move things with your mind?” Asks Mando.

“Yes, it’s one of our many abilities with sorcery.” Octavia demonstrates by closing her eyes and drawing a fruit from the counter to her hand. 

“With no prior training, your son could be raised as one of our own.” She states and takes a bite out of the ripe, plump fruit.

“He has prior training, Auntie. He showed me a life he had before he was taken by the Empire. He lived among other Jedi.” You solemnly explain. Part of you wanted to keep the little guy around but you knew deep down his place in the galaxy was not among sorcerers. 

Octavia, Mando, and you settled in the living room. She shared stories of the past with the two of you and as much information of the Jedi that she could think of. The Mandalorian shared the tale of how he obtained the child and the journey they have been through. He was finally opening up to you. You learned that the man was a bounty hunter and the child had been a bounty he retrieved. The past months had been tough on the two of them. The Mandalorian was desperate to fulfill his quest, which had taken him all over the outer rim. 

It was dusk when your conversations fizzled out. 

“I need to make it home before dark, Auntie.” You raise from your seat and straighten out the wrinkles in your dress. The child fell asleep playing with some fabric dolls from your youth that Octavia had fetched for him. Mando followed after you carefully picking up his sleeping form. You collected the dolls and place them in your sack, preparing to give them to Grogu at his departure.

“I can escort you back to your home.” He took the sack from your shoulder and slung it over his. You both said your goodbyes to Octavia and began the walk back to your home. 

“I was a foundling like him.” The nostalgia from the tales of your childhood found its way to Mando, as he began the story of his upbringing.

“The Mandalorians took me in and raised me as their own just as Octavia did for you. I can see the love and respect you have for her. I understand it in that way.” His voice is gruff as it comes out of the modulator. 

“He sees you in that way too you know.” You can’t help but smile at the sleeping child, thinking back on the images he showed of his only known father. “You are a father to him. That’s a very special kind of bond.” 

Mando placed a hand on your shoulder, and you stopped to face him. 

“Thank you for all your help.” His sincere tone was enough thanks for you alone. It was dark now. What little that was left of the waning moon shimmered in the reflection on the beskar. 

“I want you to keep the dolls for Grogu, as a thanks for giving me a little adventure today.” You could see the low lamp light from your home and figured this would be the last you see of them. “If you ever need anything you know where to find me.” You placed your hand over his large one still resting on your shoulder. You let it sit for a moment, that strange feeling of loss filling your gut again. 

“I’ll see you around.” He says. You pull your hand away and nod before making the short walk back to your home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!! message me on tumblr as well [dxddydelrey](https://dxddydelrey.tumblr.com/)


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